


With Our Warmest Regards,

by PaperPixel



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: Character Development, Engagement Party, F/F, Hannah-centric, Introspection, One-Sided Love, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 20:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13934571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperPixel/pseuds/PaperPixel
Summary: Hannah is invited to an engagement party. She doesn't want to go, but she goes. Because she is an adult, damn it.Or Hannah's crash course in accepting defeat, self-reflection and rethinking the amount of money she shells out for a therapist that can easily be replaced with a chinese fortune cookie.





	With Our Warmest Regards,

The shell-colored card is simple and tastefully decorated, bordered with a golden frame – embossed and _glinting_ – and raised letters sporting a graceful typeface in a deep shade of blue. The look is elegant, classy yet criminally simple, with a bonus of smelling particularly nice. The amalgamation of her best friend. Hannah has to crack a smile at that; even in the engagement party invitation card, traces of her shine through.

Into the trash it goes.

**With Our Warmest Regards,**

 

At the end of the day, if all else fails, she has her bed to fall into. And wasn’t that a good enough consolation prize? It’s already evening, anyway, why not just tap her driver by the shoulder and ask him to u-turn and head straight for her home? Better yet, why not ask him to head straight into a wall so she can finally die? She sighs, rubbing her face into the same shade as her hair and burrowing deeper into the backseat’s leather. _By Jennifer’s magical dead corpse_ , she’s already sounding like a sore loser.

A loser with a distaste for romance, she will admit that, but for a justified reason! See, once upon a time Hannah England decided to be stupid. Which led to more and more stupid decisions. Which resulted in her acquiring a stupendously lengthy string of failed relationships.

 _As long as the Great Wall_ , Barbara had remarked once – a year and a half ago, over a cup of tea and busquets in a tiny yet posh cafe because they are so painfully English and Barbara all but demanded that they at least make some time for each other in this fast-paced, stressful adult world.

_You’ve been so busy._

_You never call me or Diana anymore. I would’ve expected that from Diana!_

_We miss you._

Yeah, yeah. Hannah nodded at all that. So they did meet up, and it was nice.

But Hannah didn’t want to dwell on that memory any longer than necessary. Her hands are getting clammy and her driver is peering at her through the rearview mirror, perhaps waiting for her to haul ass and leave him be.

“We’ve arrived, Ms. England.” He monotones, driving gloves slacking its hold on the steering wheel, maybe itching to take a drag out back after dropping her off. He deserves it. She’s had enough introspection to know that she is insufferable most of the time.

“And so we have.”

She was once well acquainted with her best friend’s residence, becoming a semi-recurring fixture in the area when they were young. She sees visions of her ten year old self running in that corner of the events hall, conjuring half-competent spells at her two best friends. Barbara would retaliate and Diana would swish at the air, trying her best. The former would sneak a glance at Hannah, affirming the conditions of their unbreakable oath. An oath to never make the magic-less Cavendish feel inferior and to encourage her as best they could. An oath to fill the void in the young girl that her remaining living relatives wouldn’t fill. A support system.

Hannah loved this house. It was a witness to a great many things. But now?

Her arrival at the manor is marked in the same aristocratic fashion as one would expect in such an important and expensive event. “Lady Hannah of House England.” The herald announces in a loud bellow and the already present guests raise their glass to her in acknowledgment. Based on a cursory glance at the crowd, Hannah can already deduce who’s guest is who. The rigid stance of the pompous elite and the lax yet cautious form of the proletariats tell much of the story.

Not to mention, the engagement party is in full swing already as she descends the wide-set staircase, with tables upon tables of pricey cuisine and sparkling beverages. And with Akko in the mix, how can it _not_ be in full swing? She’s expertly maneuvering through the throng, chatting them up in her usual bubbly nature. Somehow, even with the dense crowd, spotting Kagari is as easy as it was when they were students at Luna Nova. She simply sticks out. Past Hannah would remark negatively along the lines of ‘ _because she doesn’t belong’_ but present Hannah knows its because she just has that undeniable charm to her. That incorrigible pureness of heart – _yuck_ – that made _the_ Diana Cavendish fall head over heels. Even Hannah had warmed up to her, and she had to admit that she was nothing short of a _right old cunt_ to the Japanese girl during their first few months in the academy. The few pranks she and Barbara pulled on her were funny though, she has to admit that.

Akko meets her eyes and breaks into a wide smile. Hannah couldn’t school her features quick enough and her own smile shines in response. But then Akko breaks into a run and Hannah steels herself as she gets positively glomped.

“Unf– Akko!”

“Hannaaah! I haven’t seen you in so long!” Akko wails, clinging loosely around her as she surveys the damage done to her hair and dress.

She gently unlatches the woman’s arms around her neck. “I missed you too. You and Diana both.” Speaking of, where is the heiress?

“Diana’s with Barbara in the sitting room,” Akko answers the unspoken question. Then she scratches the back of her head, not the least bit concerned that it can ruin her surprisingly well put-together hairdo. _Bloody hell_ , now that Hannah thinks about it, Akko did look good today – dress and make up and all that.

“Truth be told, she was kinda-sorta assuming you wouldn’t come. But you did!” Akko resumes, giving a full toothed, Akko-patented grin this time and throwing a double thumbs up at Hannah. “And that’s great! They’ll be really happy. So let’s go-go-go!”

Akko is pushing her now as the preppy young woman channels her inner Moses, parting the crowd in half to make way for them. Hannah feels like she isn’t appropriately drunk enough for this mess, specially when Akko bumps into a probably important figure in the magic world and mumbles a half-hearted ‘ _Whoops_ _’_.

Being a passive participant in Akko’s antics? Again, past Hannah would gag at the thought. Present Hannah, though, feels a bit of fondness ghost over her heart, magnified when she hears Akko behind her sing-song that _the gang’s all here_. Therapy is obviously working, Hannah attests. Maybe now she’s sufficiently equipped to face her best friend in this event. Maybe now she’s ready to accept the responsibility of being the maid of honor.

 _Maid of Honor._ What does that mean?

The most important person in the soon-to-be bride’s life, aside from her friends and family? The person who knows her better, who has seen the good, the bad and the downright heartbreaking? The person who has been by her side since they were kids, front-row seat in every significant event in her life?

The person who loves her the most. The person who was there, before all of this. Before she met the one she was going to marry. The person who shared dreams and aspirations with her. The person who was beyond loyal. The person who deserves her the most–

“Hannah,”

It takes her more than a second to notice that they’ve stopped. She looks up and sees teal eyes. There’s a strange marriage of surprise and relief there in the dilation of her pupils. A flood of elation and grief fills Hannah’s chest at how much she missed those eyes. She’s drowning again. Therapy _is not working_ and it’s a waste of fucking money , she resolves, because she’s here and her heart is still doing that stupid thing called _breaking_.

Flanking the newly-engaged Barbara on either side are Diana and the fiancée, Lotte.

“Found her.” Akko, bless her, bulldozes the silence. She walks out from behind Hannah and strides next to her girlfriend. “Told ‘ya she’d come.”

Diana nods and _oh, hell_ she gives Hannah _that_ look. Telepathically, she tries to shout _don’t you dare, Cavendish. Don’t you fucking dare_. Because of course Diana knows. Diana has known since they were children and Diana still knows her all too well to see that Hannah has not moved on. Not in the slightest.

But that _look –_ that soft gaze of understanding – is something that she’s been avoiding ever since it started years and years ago in Professor Ursula’s class on their second term, when Barbara had nudged herself nearer and nearer to the far edge of her table just to take a peek and smile at the tuft of orange hair directly below her. _Fondly_.

Hannah looked down at her notes and silently bowed her head, asking fate or a deity or anyone that cared to listen – _why?_

 _Why not_ _me_ _?_

And that was the first time Diana had thrown it at her – that soft, gentle and knowing _look_. The _I-know-and-I’m-here-for-you_ gaze but Hannah, proud Hannah, didn’t want that. Diana was patient and she had never vocalized anything, but that look was unbearable since it signified just how overtly hurt she was becoming at Barbara and Lotte’s increasing closeness. She didn’t want a pity party. She wanted to lock herself up and throw away the key. She was good with distance. She was good with leaving it be. So she kept it in.

It had been those stupid decisions – the decision of inaction and concession, because she was afraid of losing Barbara, or perhaps in extension the dynamic between the three of them – that made her miserable and made her conjure up a hundred and thousand variations of _what-ifs_ and _maybes_ well after they graduated. It had been those idiotic decisions that dominoed the ruin of all her future relationships. Crash, burn, repeat. In between them, the _what-ifs_ and _maybes_ haunted.

If she had the courage, would she be the one making Barbara laugh at the most inane jokes that didn’t involve making fun of other people?

If she had been a little less selfish, would she be the one indulging her best friend as she rambled on about her favorite scenes from her favorite series?

If she had fought a bit more, would Barbara have stayed and never attended that NightFall convention instead of returning to their dorm room with a hop in her step and a mark in her heart?

If she had fought _at all_ , would Lotte have ever won?

But Lotte was braver, selfless, and she would have _fought_. This was and still is Hannah’s conclusion. No matter how many alternate realities she conjures up in her mind, Lotte will always win.

Because Lotte is Lotte

and Hannah is just Hannah.

But, excruciatingly, depressingly and frustratingly through it all, Barbara is still her whole world. And Hannah is trying her best to ignore this years old lump in her throat and to simply be happy for the couple. Because she may be her whole world, but she is a world revolving around the brightest and largest star in her galaxy – Lotte.

Akko is starting to fidget, shifting her weight from one heel to the other. Her poor friend is not well acquainted with silence – specially awkward silence, and she’s trying her darndest not to be the one to fill it. No one is saying anything, really. It’s like Hannah and Barbara are the only ones permitted to speak in this fragile moment. But today isn’t about the both of them, right? It’s about the newly engaged couple.

 _You’re never going to have a healthy relationship—_ her therapist once said in a rather discouraging fashion – _if you never learn to move on._ Solid advice. Worth every penny.

Barbara is still on standby, possibly a bit cautious since Hannah did not return any of her calls ever since she had sent the invitation card. ( _Yes, the one Hannah threw into the bin the moment she had scanned the contents)._ Diana, possibly by habit or some domesticated instinct trained over the years she’s been with her girlfriend, slides her fingers in between Akko’s to calm the uneasy Japanese woman, who is seriously, _seriously_ confused at this awkward silence. That touch of affection, that easy familiarity, claws something unpleasant in the back of Hannah’s mind. Envy, most likely.

 _Stop replacing the pain. Stop dulling the pain._ Hannah really didn’t know why she kept returning to that old hag of a therapist.

_Learn to cure the pain by moving forward._

The sound of the mingling crowd and the music of the band in the events hall are muffled here in the closed sitting room. A painting of Barbara’s late grandfather hangs above the great fireplace which houses the roaring flames in shades of amber. Uncomfortable-looking but expensive chairs are placed around a coffee table covered in messy stacks of papers and cards. It looks as though the couple were in the middle of signing or planning things. About the wedding, most likely.

The past paints a different scene from long ago, of Hannah and Barbara as little kids, leaning against that same coffee table and scribbling with their crayons trying not color their drawings outside the lines.

And here they are now. _Moving forward_.

“Congratulations,” She finally says, stepping closer to the young woman. “I’m... I’m really happy for you both.”

Hannah doesn’t look into the woman’s eyes. Mostly because she doesn’t know if she sounds sincere. But, hey, she’s trying.

Lotte doesn’t mind. She smiles beautifully, anyway. “Thank you, Hannah.”

And this time, it’s Barbara that glomps her. “Hannah! ThankyousomuchforcomingohmygodIdidn’tthinkyou’d—”

“Okay, okay, you should probably not strangle Hannah, Barbs. We have some maid of honor duties to attend to.” Akko says from the sidelines. “Some of the guests are becoming more and more rowdy. I’ve been keeping their alcohol levels at bay but it isn't working.” she mutters, casting a sidelong glance at Lotte.

She smiles sheepishly. “Ahh... sorry. Some of my family members can be a bit–”

The muted hum of jazz music is suddenly replaced with an electric guitar, followed by erratic drums and then screaming vocals.

“Ahk! Hannah! Let’s go!” She pulls at Hannah’s arms, trying to disentangle her from Barbara’s hold. But they all freeze and Diana outright jumps when they hear an _explosion_.

The door to the sitting room bursts open to reveal Amanda, breathless, _grinning_. “Sucy is here, guys! And she brought a _present!_ ”

The sound of pandemonium trickle through the open door.

* * *

“I’m proud of you,” Diana says in the most Diana way possible, eyes downcast and all stiff. The view of the night sky and the sprawling forest underneath had made this balcony one of Hannah’s favorite areas in the Parker mansion.

The party is nearing its end. Diana had tucked away her wand minutes earlier after curing the last few victims of Sucy’s _Kabute_ _Surprise,_ a cauldron filled to the brim with an aromatic yet bubbly brownish liquid of— Hannah didn’t really need or want to know.

Constanze is busy rigging up a large cleaning machine and Jasminka is probably still sampling the food. Sucy, the last Hannah saw of her, was being admonished by – of all people – Akko while Amanda played with the newly formed Finnish rock band on stage. Barbara and Lotte are seeing the guests off with an apology and a promise that Sucy will be banned from ever bringing her fungi to the wedding proper.

Now, it’s just the two of them alone in the balcony – two-thirds of the blue team.

And pretty soon, maybe months or years from now, it’s Diana’s turn, isn’t it? Yeah, there’s no denying that. Hannah’s going to be the only one left in the balcony, glancing up at the stars.

“Thanks, Diana.”

She feels Diana glance at her and somehow, that _look_ that she had despised all these years turns into something comforting. “You aren’t going to be replaced. I just want to assure you of that,” The blonde witch’s voice turns delicate, “The three of us are still the most prominent people in each others lives.”

She nods in response, not really believing it. But still, between them is a decade and a half of incredible friendship. Of absolute love. That testament grips her heart.

And so, Hannah speaks of it: “I love you, Diana. Thanks for sticking with me.”

If Diana was surprised at that, she didn’t let it show. Hannah elaborates.

“I’m trying to... you know, be honest and upfront with what I’m feeling.”

 _Oh,_ Diana mouths. “How does it feel?”

“Honestly, it feels kind of awkward but... it also feels rather good.”

With Diana’s stoic and contemplative nature, and Hannah’s outright imprisonment of her turmoil, the two of them are the worst people at feelings, _honestly_.

“And I think, for the very first time, Akko would give better advice on this than you can.” She finishes with a laugh.

Diana smiles. “I believe you’re right.”

* * *

Barbara’s tight embrace takes a hold of her one last time this evening. “Thank you, Han,” She pulls away and rubs her thumbs absentmindedly on Hannah’s bare shoulders, as if trying to make sure that yes, her best friend is there and yes, she will be going to the wedding and _yes_ , she will be her maid of honor.

Hannah swallows the last of the knots forming in her throat and nods. Lotte is the one that hugs her next, as is customary to do so for every guest that is a close friend or relative. But nothing in the hug indicated of stiff propriety. It was warm. It was a thank you in its most sincerest form.

And maybe Hannah didn’t lose at all. And maybe Lotte didn’t win.

Instead, perhaps Lotte had attained what she deserved this entire time.

“Take care of her,” Hannah whispers.

* * *

She does find her driver smoking out back. She crosses her arms, feigning a searing look and he almost chokes on his cigarette. She cracks a smile, though, because that was incredibly priceless and wow she’s still a bit of a _bitch_ isn’t she?

She gestures for one, and he taps the butt of the cigarette pack, dislodging a single stick. She didn’t really smoke, but she puts it in between her teeth anyway and lets him light it up for her.

And she coughs her entire family lineage out of her throat. “ _Jennifer’s tits,_ that’s horribl—” the coughing continues and her driver laughs, patting her on the back.

“Damn, Hannah. First time?”

Amanda, looking irritably dashing as ever, strides towards them. Her suit jacket is thrown over her shoulder and her waistcoat does wonders in accentuating her figure, with her dress shirt’s buttons unpopped just enough to see a hint of cleavage. Her hair is loose, longer than when they were young.

Instead of an insulting retort, somehow, Hannah’s libido takes the wheel for a moment and next thing she knows, she’s asking the American if she wants a ride.

“Ready?” Her driver asks, starting the engine and looking at her in the rearview mirror, waiting for an affirmative.

Amanda is humming a rock tune. Hannah looks out of the car window to the soon-to-be-wed couple, already retreating towards the mansion with their hands linked.

“Yeah,” She says, thinking about the bed she’s about to fall into. She sighs. There's still that heavy feeling in her heart, but overall it wasn’t a bad night, specially since someone else might fall into her bed as well. She smiles at Amanda. “I’m ready.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Criticisms are welcome. Hope you enjoyed :) 
> 
> Sidenote 1: All of Hannah’s exes were brunettes, with one blonde outlier. Yeah, that didn’t last long at all.  
> Sidenote 2: I finally uploaded my first, finished fic. Wowza.


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